AN: The premise of this fic is inspired by one of Blair's fantasies as described by her in my other fic "God Always Watching Miss Blair" but I will warn you, its another angsty one! The prompt is "On Nate's Bed" (this is fic # 3 for those who are counting!) and this takes place in between 1x12 and 1x13. Enjoy!

I Can Make You Feel

She didn't want to be there.

She had done this song and dance before and it ended with her crying on a sidewalk as the boy she thought she loved was unable to say it back.

So she went out and found herself a cure in the form of a dark-haired man with a devilish smirk who knew how to touch her because it was his craft. But somewhere along the way they stumbled into a place they couldn't predict—where the lines of friendship and plotting partners and lovers all bled together into an indistinguishable emotion that felt a whole lot like love…but then again who can ever really tell.

It was scary to trust Chuck with her heart, which is perhaps why she was so easily able to convince herself that what she felt for him wasn't love at all. Instead, she chose to go back to the boy who was predictable, dry, and completely aware to the woman she had become or the needs she possessed outside of the society events he insisted on dragging her to.

This one happened to be at his house—The Archibald's estate. It was a risky move on Anne's part to host a dinner so soon after The Captain was admitted into a rehab facility for his much publicized cocaine addiction, but on the Upper East Side image was everything. Tonight, Anne and Nate would stand together in a united front in support of their fallen family member and show the world that they were still going strong.

Similarly, Blair was also in attendance by Nate's side—to be used as a tool in this strategic PR event as the once-jilted girlfriend who could forgive and forget at the drop of a hat because that's what you do when you find your true love.

Unfortunately for Blair, Chuck Bass was also in attendance that night—there under the pretense of supporting his best friend in his time of need, when really Blair knew his true motivations: to watch her squirm deliciously under the pressure of his heavy, lustful gaze.

It was almost unimaginative to think that he would be so bold and uninhibited in his visual assault of her body after what she put him through. For all intense purposes, he should have hated Blair Waldorf and everything she stands for after she discarded him so suddenly for an attempted gesture so seemingly innocent—a mere kiss under the public's scrutiny—that to this day he could not surmise what he had done wrong.

A scarlet blush began to creep up Blair's neck and cheeks as she allowed herself to remember the last afternoon they spent together before she ended their affair once and for all. After Nate had asked her to the ball and she returned to her room, she found Chuck waiting at the entrance to her room with furious eyes. Wordlessly he took her into his arms and brought her to bed before undressing her with lightening speed, setting her porcelain skin ablaze with his fiery lips and tongue. Continuously, almost relentlessly, he buried himself inside of her again and again until she begged for release—pleading that she was his (upon his request) and no one else's until her voice grew hoarse and her body convulsed around his.

Mortified by how her body was reacting in the present time as she recalled that afternoon with attention to detail, Blair excused herself from her conversation with Anne and Nate and made her way over to the refreshments. She picked up a glass of champagne and added a significant amount of ice-cubes before secretly drawing it up against her flushed cheek.

She sighed at the sweet relief without shame as she realized the room was completely deserted—save present company. Feeling bolder, Blair allowed the chilled glass to be brought down to meet the side of her neck—a sensitive spot Chuck would often press his lips against not so long ago.

She moaned softly at the memory. Without thinking, Blair dipped her middle finger into the cool liquid and spread it across her collarbone suggestively. She reveled in the sweet relief it provided her hot flesh.

Just as she moved to touch the glass back to her lips for a sip, she felt a presence creep up behind her. The room was suddenly so still and silent, Blair did not dare make a sound or movement for fear that the tension would shatter her entire being.

His hands found her bare arms in a familiar gesture as he allowed his body to close the gap between them.

Blair bit down on her own lip, but did not speak as she found his hand suddenly wrapped around hers—demanding she set her glass down so that he could be given her full attention.

She felt his lips on the nape of her neck—his favorite—and she nearly let out a cry of pleasure due to her body's inability to process the delicious sensation she thought she would never be exposed to again.

"Meet me in his bedroom" his voice rumbled against her skin.

Blair squeezed down on the hand still wrapped in hers—a silent plea for the answer to the question she didn't know how to ask.

"I can give you want you need" he rasped, knowing she was powerless against the tantalizing tone of his seductive voice.

I know. She wanted to respond, but didn't for fear that she would wake up from this terribly wonderful wet-dream that far too many times left her helplessly unsatisfied and frustrated for the one person she was never supposed to have.

"Five minutes" he said simply before disappearing as fast as he came. He didn't wait for her response.

They both knew what her answer would be.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

She didn't know what position to wait for him in.

She considered undressing herself in preparation for what was bound to be a quick and dirty encounter—not even Chuck was dumb enough to try and draw out a sexual tryst where they could be discovered by Nate at any time. Of course, that never stopped Chuck from seducing her either.

In the end she decided against removing her clothes—or doing anything else that would suggest how desperately she craved him; after all, he was the one that sought her out—the least he could do was all the work.

She chosen to stand with her back to him once again because looking into his eyes was far too dangerous a game and too much was at risk. In situations that were beyond her control, Blair often found that playing it coy and composed was the least she could do to hold onto what was left of her dignity.

She crossed her arms over her chest, practically hugging herself, as the moments ticked on and she waited for the inevitable sound of Nate's bedroom door creaking open.

When it finally did, the urge to turn around and face the man she wronged but still cared about so much it made her insides ache was overwhelming, but she couldn't give into the urge. Regardless to what happened tonight, they both knew that it wouldn't change anything—for a long while at least—and doing anything to complicate the painful separation of intimacy between the two of them wouldn't do either of them any good.

Almost predictably, Chuck's first move was to unzip her dress without so much as a greeting as he approached her. As the fabric hit the carpeted floor below them Blair heard his small moan of approval as he assed her undergarments—red, lace and barely there.

Blair closed her eyes as his hands ran over her newly exposed skin and she thanked her lucky stars that she chose such an alluring pair of bra and panties for this stifling event.

"Get on the bed" he instructed quietly "Don't turn around."

Apparently, Blair wasn't the only one in the room who was afraid of the slippery-slope known as intimacy—he didn't need to tell her twice; she knew exactly how this night would go almost as if she had planned it herself. It was comforting and exciting all at the same time.

Slowly, she crawled onto the bed with a purposeful swing to her hips as her hands and knees found the middle of Nate's bedspread. Once she found her destination she continued to move her backside back and forth under the pretense of finding her balance—though she knew her intent was not lost on him.

His eyes had an amazing talent for searing into her ten times hotter when she wasn't looking than when she actually was. It was undeniably erotic knowing she was performing for him without having to look at him—further knowledge of Chuck's voyeuristic tendencies no doubt heighted Blair's level of arousal in a way no one else could.

She heard some rustling of clothes—of course not too much because Chuck never fully undressed when he working on a time-crunch. He saved his rare full nudity scenes for lazy afternoons when Eleanor was off at work and it was just the two of them locked away in her bedroom for hours on end, or on those electrifying nights when Blair would show up in a raincoat and nothing else and he would proceed to make love to her until the sun rose the following morning.

But tonight, for a quick pick-me-up in the form of taking his old lover on top of the bed he once shared with his best friend as boys on a sleepover, Chuck would remain mostly clothed. He would remove the necessities that Blair could recall him wearing earlier that night—a dark purple jacket, his matching bowtie, his black belt and shoes—as well as perhaps loosen the buttons on his shirt before opening he closures on his pants.

As the bed dipped under his added weight, Blair felt her hands fist into the comforter in anticipation. She didn't like to be kept waiting and she considered reminding him of this until she felt the crotch of her panties being pushed aside.

He fingered her then, at a languish pace as if he was looking for a hobby to pass the time instead of what he was actually doing, which was freeing his no-doubt painfully erect member and applying a condom with his free hand.

Blair mewed at the sensation and took a shaky breath as she suppressed the urge to say his name.

Since she ended their affair, she had only slept with Nate twice: once after Cotillion and once after the pool-party scandal on the night they got back together. She had been backed into a wall that week and she had two options: continue to be tormented by Chuck about their affair and live in wait for Nate to find out, or completely avoid the situation by getting back together with Nate and praying that Chuck would never be so cruel.

But really, the joke was on her because she was back with the boy with didn't love her anymore than she still loved him and their second attempt at love-making was only further proof of those facts. Blair no longer knew how to play the role of insecure and virginal little girl anymore—since she let Chuck into her heart and bed she managed to learn so much in such a short amount of time, she could not will herself to unlearn the pleasure he unraveled within her even if she tried.

This is how she could almost justify her current predicament.

His two fingers slipped from her channel just as Blair clenched her muscles together in an attempt to keep a part of him inside of her.

"Mmhm" she heard him grunt as she imagined the erotic image of him pushing his fingers into of his mouth and tasting her essence on them.

A moment later she felt him shift and was only slightly surprised to see him offering her his two moistened fingers over her shoulder. Wordlessly, Blair parted her lips and allowed his digits access to her mouth and tongue. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to get lost in the sensation, tasting a mixture of herself and his sweet saliva on her taste buds, which always, always left her wanting more.

She moaned around his fingers because she knew what it did to him to hear her moan.

"Good girl" he rasped, withdrawing his fingers and gripping her hips possessively.

Next she felt him position himself at her entrance, teasing her ruthlessly with his tip until her eyes crossed in anticipation.

"Please" she whispered so softly she wasn't sure he heard her.

But then he slipped inside of her so swiftly she barely remembered to suppress a cry of pleasure. Luckily Chuck was not so lost in the moment he forgot about where they were and managed to reach down to cover her mouth with his hand.

Blair placed a kiss on his palm a moment before he moved it away. She imagined him bringing his hand back to his own mouth and pressing his lips to that very same spot.

Her head lolled from side to side, her dark waves providing a curtain which shielded her beautiful face currently screwed up in pleasure from the world.

Moments later, she felt Chuck bend down to drape his body over hers—molding themselves together until they moved as one being, totally and completely.

It was a game of give and take; he'd pump himself inside of her, she'd rock her hips backwards and take him deeper. Back and forth, again and again, perfectly in sync with each other, they worked towards a common goal—a type of completion they could attempt to find manually in their bedrooms alone with none the wiser, but that they so preferred to do with each other and only each other.

As his chest hair scraped against the scratchy lace of her bra, his hands moved around to her front not to remove the offensive piece of material, but to use it to his advantage—he sought revenge on her hardened nipples through the lace, squeezing and rubbing and pinching the buds until she became so wet he nearly fell out of her with every thrust he took.

Blair moaned and fell down onto her forearms, seeking temporary release from the torturous sensation and planning a type of revenge of her own. Balancing herself on one arm, her free hand moved underneath and between them until she found the spot they were most intimately joined. She allowed her fingertips to interact with his slick member temporarily before moving her hand even farther down to grasp his balls. Small circles, she found after spending hours on end exploring the nether region of his genitals one night, followed by a more aggressive cup of her palm was what she discovered that did him in like nothing else.

And so she did what she had to do because she refused to let him call all the shots tonight—she wanted to prove to him that he needed this from her just as badly as she needed it from him; that this coupling, in fact, was not a one-sided form of entertainment but rather a symbiotic relationship which required two active participants who knew each other's desires better than they even understood their own.

His teeth digging into her shoulder told her all that she already knew about Chuck Bass—that he loved to be overpowered, tortured and cherished in a way that most men would never admit too; but because he was him and she was her, he had no other choice.

In retaliation his fingers found her sensitive nub, normally hidden in the apex of her thighs, but tonight it was full and aching—a perfect representation of their two damaged hearts that sometimes could not help but be revealed in moments of weakness. He stroked it sweetly, his fingertips gliding over the flesh so much he could barely create the friction needed to finish this round once and for all.

But all good things—all sweet, passionate, intense and emotional things must come to an end—or at least in the form of matching orgasms, and this bought of lovemaking was no different. Truth be told it was Blair who came first (as she always did) because she knew nothing of stamina beyond her partner's intense endurance and never had the heart to stop herself from falling off the edge of the cliff—especially when Chuck was right behind her, holding her hand and kissing away her fears.

But tonight Chuck did not want to jump after her—he wanted to freeze time in this perfect moment where her body squeezed him with such a potent frenzy he feared he would never know such ecstasy ever again. He didn't want to jump because it would not end with them together out in the real world—it would end with her being rescued by the sandy blonde lifeguard who achieved certification without any real qualifications, while he would be left at sea—forever drowning in a vast open sea, covered in an unrequited love that weighed him down relentlessly.

And so he held onto her, onto this moment and onto a dream that would not become reality for a long while, until he could no longer suppress the stars from exploding within his inner eye-lids as he released his greatest source of tension into a rubber barrier separating him from his beloved indefinitely.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Blair flinched as he begrudgingly pulled out of her—he always had to make a dramatic show of their uncoupling to emphasize how wrong it felt for them to be anything but joined at all times. And while she would never admit it out loud, she knew deep down she felt the same exact way.

He bent his head down under the impression that he would place a lingering kiss on her cheek, but at the last minute she turned her head and met him half-way—eye still closed, she caught his lips with a type of possessiveness she rarely showed outwardly.

Chuck was the first to pull away, which would have been surprising except for the fact that she was the one to leave him on the ballroom floor and declare that they were done first. As much as he didn't want to, it felt like a twisted form of karma to give her a taste of her own medicine.

As he attempted to slide off the bed, Blair reached around and grabbed onto his hand, but he pulled away.

"Wait" she tried, turning around to face him for the first time since he approached her that night.

His eyes didn't look like she feared—it was far worse. The softness, the longing she expected to see in his warm brown eyes was replaced by a cold, awful, emotionless gaze.

"No Blair" he said, picking his jacket off Nate's bedroom floor.

She closed her mouth, reeling slightly at being shut down.

"Why?" she whispered.

Chuck sighed as he slipped his jacket on and readjusted his bowtie, his armor.

"Because this thing between us" he reminded her "is over…for good. Remember?"

Her bottom lip quivered as she moved to shield herself from his view. She didn't know what to say.

"You never gave a fuck about me" he told her before storming out of the room.

As she stood to get dressed, Blair allowed herself to cry for the first time in a long time as she realized how cruel she had been to him. But it was too late to go back now. She had chosen Nate—the good one in the eyes of society, but irrevocably the wrong one in her heart.

Monday morning she would sit and listen to Nate complain about the used condom he found in his trashcan after the party. She would roll her eyes; tell him his best friend is a pig, that Cindy Nelson is a slut, and that she loved him. All but one of those statements, she'd reflect with anguish as she leaned in to kiss him, was the god's honest truth.

From across the courtyard Chuck would watch her from his place in the dark, lying in wait for the day to come when this terrible nightmare would come to an end.

FIN. I don't know what prompt I will choose next, but it will mostly be less angsty since I'm burning out a bit!